Match Point
by Ryuuen Kurai
Summary: Ryuuen's PoT Ficlet Collection. Pairings to be featured: TezukaRyoma. InuiFuji. MomoshiroKaidoh. OishiKikumaru.
1. TezukaRyoma: Letting Go

**.letting go...**

Tezuka tells himself that he should let go, that he is holding Ryoma back, that he should let go because he couldn't allow himself to become the stumbling block that would make Ryoma fall... Because Ryoma deserves better, deserves the entire world and that is no longer something Tezuka could give him, not anymore... So he should set Ryoma free, allow him to evolve and grow and reach for what he is destined for...

But then, that would be for tomorrow.

For now, he would allow himself a moment of selfishness... For now, he would hold on -- for a second, maybe two -- but if Ryoma would still be there the moment he wakes up, maybe, just maybe...

Forever...

**.end.**


	2. TezukaRyoma: Viewpoint

_**.viewpoint...**_

When Tezuka looks at Ryoma, he sees nothing but what Ryoma could be, what he could help Ryoma become, what Ryoma could want to become because of him... Or, at least, that's what he tells himself.

When Tezuka looks at Ryoma, he doesn't notice the way the freshman's eyes would linger fleetingly on his hands, his arms, the sweat beading at his nape -- _never_ his eyes -- and the way Ryoma would smirk as though there was something he knew that Tezuka didn't... Or, if he does, he doesn't show it.

For what Ryoma needs now, more than anything, is someone to look up to, someone other than his father that he would try with all his might to defeat, someone to help him discover his own style of tennis. Other than that? Well, isn't that what the future is for? For now, Ryoma needs his captain -- nothing more...

Tezuka would allow himself to be only what Ryoma needs him to be...

When Ryoma looks at Tezuka, he sees more than his captain or an exceptional tennis player or someone he would very much like to beat. He sees more than hazel eyes and strong arms and the stern expression on the other's face. Because when Ryoma looks at Tezuka, _really_ looks at him, he sees himself and his father and what he really wants so that every time he stands on the court, clutching his racket, and feels those stern hazel eyes watching him, he'd smirk and say to himself, "_This is where I want to be_."

And later, much later, when he feels the warmth of another's hand on his shoulder, even through the fabric of his shirt, and looks up into those same eyes hinting at something akin to pride; when he hears the words, "_Good work, Echizen_" and feels the warmth spreading throughout his body like wildfire; and when Tezuka-buchou spares him one of those rare half-smiles that he finds himself returning, he can't help but think, "_This is where I belong_."

Tezuka puts Ryoma's priorities into order.

_**.end...**_


	3. TezukaRyoma: Duology

**.:duology.**

I'm sorry, Tezuka says. I'm sorry if I have to go, sorry that I could not be strong enough for the both of us and that you have to carry part of my burden. I'm sorry for putting you through all of this when the only thing I ever wanted was to help you reach the top, for that is what you deserve: everything. You deserve the entire world but now, I realize, that that is no longer something I can give you. So I'm leaving. And, maybe, this is what we need... Maybe.

I'm not asking you to wait for me, though. No, I am not that selfish. Your world must keep on turning, with or without me. Aim for the stars, reach for the skies, conquer your fears, keep evolving, and strive to discover your own style of tennis so that when I return, we shall be meeting on equal terms...

If you would still remember me.

You were never one for patience...

Ryoma.

* * *

I won't forget, Ryoma says. I won't forget because that's what I always do -- forget and walk away and leave behind a piece of my heart. I won't forget because that would mean cheapening what we've had, what we could still have. I won't forget because I believe this isn't really goodbye. I won't let you walk away that easily. Because whether by the hands of time or fate or even my own, you will come back. You will come back and then I'd show you just how far I've gone without you, because of you. And maybe then, I'd tell you... Maybe.

Just... Please, don't take too long. My world will keep on turning without you and there are a lot of players stronger than you whom I have to beat.

I won't wait for you forever so please come back soon...

Tezuka-buchou.

**.end:.**


	4. TezukaRyoma: Tunnel Vision

**.tunnel vision...**

Sometimes, Oishi wonders if Tezuka is really as stoic as he makes himself appear to be, or if it is just an act to keep unwanted complications away. He thinks about the girls who follow the other boy around, whispering and giggling and making him lunches. If it were Fuji they were doting upon, they would've been a bit less disappointed, for Fuji would've offered each of them a smile or a nod or a word of thanks or any form of acknowledgement that would've possibly, undoubtedly made their day. But Tezuka was Tezuka and it's just too bad for he was the one who simply walked away, politely declining their well-meant gifts, unknowingly breaking a heart or two… Not that he particularly noticed.

Oishi thinks he knows why.

He watches them – from the shadows, from the dark; watches each serve, each volley, each return, each shot. And then he watches Tezuka walk over to where Ryoma had dropped to his knees, watches Ryoma look up, watches their eyes meet... And there's something about the way they look into each other's eyes that tells Oishi that there's more being said than the words that are spoken.

And he just stands there, watching them watch each other, all the while feeling like an intruder, but he could not make himself look away. Not that it matters. For Tezuka has eyes only for Ryoma and Oishi thinks that it was about time Ryoma started looking back.

**end.**


	5. TezukaRyoma: Fault

_**.fault…**_

If Tezuka allows himself to think about it, maybe it was his fault for not being stronger, for not standing firm and saying "_no" _or "_this is wrong" _or "_you're mistaken; this isn't what you really want", _and that maybe he should've just ignored it, turned around, walked away while he still had the chance. But now…

Now, he had seen the look in Ryoma's eyes, had seen the determination and the passion and the intensity and what could've been Ryoma's very _soul_ reflected in those eyes, all because of him, _for _him… And he realizes, with a bit of irony, that he hadn't been careful enough, that it was too late… He was already caught.

From then on, there would be no turning back.

…**_end._**


	6. InuiFuji, Kaidoh: Bliss

**_.bliss..._**

He sees them – two prominent figures on the other side of the fence -- one in the red on blue on white of a Seigaku Regular's jersey, the other in white and green and with that ever present notebook that he holds open in his hands. They stand together, seemingly unaware of each other's presence, watching intently as Ryoma skillfully returns Momoshiro's Dunk Smash with surprising ease – one with that ever-present smile on his face, the other with a seriously attentive expression – both unreadable.

He watches them, watches the way Fuji-senpai's smile would widen somewhat at nothing in particular every time his companion would bend down to scribble a statistic on his notebook; watches the way Inui-senpai would falter not quite noticeably every time the tensai would smile _just so_, not as oblivious to the other's presence as he would have others believe.

They seem to be talking now though, carefully chosen words softly spoken, which may or may not have anything to do with the recently concluded match. And he wonders if it's just his imagination or doesn't Fuji-senpai's smile seem more sincere, Inui-senpai's smirk less non-committal? Inui-senpai closes his notebook then, pockets the pencil he'd been fiddling with, adjusts his glasses almost in afterthought, turns to leave and somehow, he thinks he may have run too many laps if he were actually thinking that… But then Fuji-senpai says something, something that halts Inui-senpai in his tracks, something that has him turning around, waiting for the tensai to continue. And when Fuji-senpai reaches up, one hand resting on Inui-senpai's shoulder, to whisper directly in the other's ear, and when Inui-senpai actually lets him, actually just stands there and allows Fuji-senpai's touch to linger a bit longer, and when Fuji-senpai actually lets go, begins to walk away with something akin to smugness in his gait, and when Inui-senpai follows…

He looks away.

And he wonders what it is about what he saw that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and makes him want to puke, what it is about watching Inui-senpai and Fuji-senpai together that leaves a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach...

They pass him by, seemingly, apparently unintentional, but when he greets them out of habit (after all, they were still his _senpai_) and when Inui-senpai glances up and he glimpses his senpai's eyes behind those thick-framed glasses and sees _something _in them that shouldn't be there, and when Fuji-senpai commends him on his well-played match, eyes wide open as though there was something he _knew_ that the rest of the world wasn't privy to, and when he sees the same _something _in the tensai's eyes… And when the two of them start walking away in the direction of the locker rooms when he knew Inui-senpai had already gathered his things earlier, and when they sort of, not quite unconsciously drift towards each other, their arms barely touching, and when Fuji-senpai says something that makes Inui-senpai laugh openly, he feels that sick feeling at the pit of his stomach rise up to his throat, making it hard to breathe.

It hurts.

And Kaidoh thinks, sometimes, ignorance is bliss after all.

**_...end._**


End file.
